Birthdays

Today would have been my son's 20th birthday. And I am sitting recalling memories of the day he was born. He was so precious... Born on 11/11/92, at 11:06 am, he weighed 6 lbs 11oz and was 20 in long, he was born with 11 fingers 6 on his left hand... Aaaahhh his left side, so many things that we're wrong or could have been wrong with his left side... The top of his left ear did not curl over and it "should" have...that silly extra thumb that he always told me I should have left verses having removed when he was 7 months old. And then of course there was the disintegrated jaw on his left side discovered just 6 months before he died in 2011. My heart is full of love and life as well as sorry and grief for not seeing or realizing all that was bothering him. down. Not realizing how dark the road was that he was traveling, oh how I wish I could have lit the road and help guide him better then I had been doing. I pray to God I find a better way to raise the rest of the children He has blessed with me. Because I really do feel as though I failed some days in raising Austin.

I'd give almost anything to be able to celebrate 10, 20, 30 more birthdays with my son, instead I am left with the memories of the 18 birthdays I was allowed to have. Wondering how I am able to even get out of bed, yet knowing I have a life to live and reasons to breath and to remember to celebrate the life I have with my amazing family.

I love and miss you kiddo!!! May you have an amazing day no matter where you are in the universe. May you be blessed in your travels and love everything you are doing...

SAVE - Suicide is Preventable

www.save.org

"At SAVE we believe that suicide is preventable and that suicide prevention works. In order to accomplish our mission and goals, we use the public health model along with media campaigns and education to raise awareness of suicide. We use an educational approach to dispel the myths about suicide, and to let others know about the realities surrounding what the former U.S. Surgeon General Dr. David Satcher called a "public health crisis." On the following pages you will find information and resources that will help you if you are suicidal or if you know someone who is.

If you are suicidal or you think someone you know is, we want you to know that help is available and recovery is possible! Start by learning the warning signs, and do whatever you can to get yourself or someone you care about to the help they need so that they can return to living a fully functioning life."

Warning Signs of Suicide

These signs may mean someone is at risk for suicide. Risk is greater if a behavior is new or has increased and if it seems related to a painful event, loss or change.

• Talking about wanting to die or to kill oneself.
• Looking for a way to kill oneself, such as searching online or buying a gun.
• Talking about feeling hopeless or having no reason to live.
• Talking about feeling trapped or in unbearable pain.
• Talking about being a burden to others.
• Increasing the use of alcohol or drugs.
• Acting anxious or agitated; behaving recklessly.
• Sleeping too little or too much.
• Withdrawn or feeling isolated.
• Showing rage or talking about seeking revenge.
• Displaying extreme mood swings.

Additional Warning Signs of Suicide

• Preoccupation with death.
• Suddenly happier, calmer.
• Loss of interest in things one cares about.
• Visiting or calling people to say goodbye.
• Making arrangements; setting one's affairs in order.
• Giving things away, such as prized possessions.

A suicidal person urgently needs to see a doctor or mental health professional.

In an emergency, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-TALK (8255).

Guilt...

Guilt is the most common emotion felt after the death of a child, no matter the circumstances surrounding their passing...
I've read a few self help books, books on grief and grieving and have discovered that as much as I'd like to think I am done with certain aspects of the grieving process, only to find myself back on the same boat just a different day. It's like the boat just keeps going in these wide circles and then finds a whirlpool and gets stuck in a spiral type of spin. AND IT SUCKS!!!
Just when I feel like I'm secure in my "no more guilt" about his suicide, I find myself completely slammed, on the side of my head, with a two by four once again. I think back to all the "things" Austin was going through. All the crap that slammed into him in a 6 month time span and wonder if I could have helped change, alter or fix anything he was enduring. What could I have done differently, said differently. Could I have shown him more love, more understanding, tried to talk to him more, get him to open up to me more...anything...something. And then I realize I've done it again...I am playing the dreaded what if, should have/would have/could have game all over again when I could have sworn I'd stopped dragging myself down to that ledge. 
I also realize I am doing it with my surviving children as well. I question everything I am doing, saying, not doing, not saying. Am I helping them learn to help themselves or am I enabling them down a path of self destruction. Am I showing them what it means to be responsible human beings? Am I teaching them how to be accountable for their actions?I worry and have guilt over everything I do and say, every time I take a breath...
There is nothing I wouldn't do for my kids, but yet at the same time like I feel like it's never enough and always too much.
There is no way to describe to everyone how a loss such as the death of your child by suicide can change your entire being. The overwhelming sadness, desolation and depression can take over your life. It is so hard to keep moving, to get off the couch for more then an hour a day, to talk to someone any other human being throughout the day that isn't in your immediate family. And when talking to that other human being to think of a topic that does not completely throw them off and make them start running in the other direction faster then their legs can carry them. I can be such a buzz kill in any social setting, either I am a blubbering mess or I am a warrior riding on the back of the "awareness and education of suicide" horse. There's  rarely if ever any middle ground. And of course this brings on the guilt factor once more. 
Guilt is a never ending, very large part of my existence...each and every day is a new example of how this is true.
I wish you all to be surrounded by light and love...  

Tired...

Six months almost to the day we picked up and moved from the area where Austin passed away. We decided a fresh start would be the best thing we could do for our family. I love the area we moved to; nice, quiet and remote. This is great for me at least emotionally and mentally, but maybe not so much for the kiddies.
My children have struggled with life since that day...and my heart constantly hurts for them. Even though I know what each of them are feeling and the emotions they are going through, what I know is not enough. They started school within days of our move...time to move forward and meet new people, make friends before summer begins.
Easier said then done...
My oldest daughter refused to meet people, claiming everyone in the area are snotty and unable to accept new comers. My middle daughter throws herself into midst of things and immediately knows all the drama. And my baby boy is torn, wants so badly to make friends and be the center of attention of the neighborhood, unfortunately there aren't as many kids in our new remote location to follow him around like they did before we moved.
Each of them are struggling with their grief, trying to figure out who they are and how they now fit in our new family dynamic and our new community. On top of all this, their older brother has moved in with us for the first time in his life, having always lived with his mom. No one knows who they are, let alone how to act or react to what the another person is feeling, saying, let alone the new personality quirks we have developed this last year.
Every moment; disagreements, chores, home work assignments, being responsible for our actions, tends to be the most traumatic events ever. Emotions are worn on their sleeves(as well as my own), reactions are overblown and accountability is pretty much null and void. No one wants to take accountability any more. No one wants to accept responsibility for what they do or don't do. It's never their fault when they've done something wrong and it's almost impossible to talk to them. It's so hard to keep my emotions in check when the kids aren't getting their way every moment of every day. 
I admit that this last year has been difficult to make the kids responsible for their actions. It has been way more easier to give in and let the peace reign, sort to speak. And let me tell you, that was definitely the wrong course. But I honestly didn't realize this has been what I've been doing until recently... as I watch my baby who is 11 throw a full blown toddler temper tantrum because he talked back to me(to which I grounded him for) and didn't get his way 15 minutes later. In the meantime I am also ruining my 12 year old's social life because I have refused to return her cell phone to her after it was confiscated at school for texting in class. Not to mention she is currently not passing some of her classes, so the rule has been set in place that the phone will not be returned until she speaks with each teacher and has a plan in place to bring her grades up. And heaven forbid I tell any one of them that my computer is off limits for any reason. So I've started to say 'yep sorry I am the big bad ogre and you can't do anything at all ever'!!! Hehehe not that this statement goes over very well and can sometimes end with them yelling at me more, slamming their doors or simply saying, "whatever", as if expecting me to give in, in the end. Well I am here to say I will no longer be giving in to their wants. No matter the migraine I may end up with, the doors(privacy) that may disappear, and their social lives be damned "forever". 
The hardest thing for me is that I am still working on my own feelings about my sons death and still have to deal with my kids feelings too...this is so freaking hard. And the healing process definitely feels as though it has been drawn out for me.
I admit I am tired!!!
I am tired of feeling like crap. I am tired of feeling like I have failed. I am tired of feeling like I am not enough. I am tired of the every day arguments/disagreements about everything. I am just plain tired.
I know things will improve and we will once again be the family we strive to be and it will take time, patience and therapy... yes one day things will change for the better...

Headstone is placed

As we were driving north to view the headstone... I'm really not sure how I felt... an overwhelming sense of numbness seemed to have set in. On one hand I want to go to the cemetery by myself and just do what I need to do...but on the other I want to surround myself with people who can share this stuff with me. Be my support team that surrounds me with love and comfort. Unfortunately that love and comfort is always followed with the typical questions of "how are you doing?" "Are you doing Ok"" and "how are you holding up?"  Although these questions are meant to let me know they are there for me and they are genuinely concerned for my well being, but the questions suck because the answers are always the same; what I say out loud is "I'm fine", "I'm doing Ok, thanks", or "I'm getting by, one baby step at a time". All of which are basically true and easier to say then what is screaming through my head... "NO I'M NOT OK...MY SON IS DEAD". How am I supposed to be doing? I really don't know, all I know is that a full year has passed and I am lost. I am in a space I don't know where the walls are, how far they expand or even if the end. But at the same time I feel like I'm at a dead end with no available turns or exits. This existence continues to be my hell.

The headstone is exactly what I wanted it to be, regardless of who does not agree. I found myself needing time alone at the graveside but instead found myself inviting everyone who wanted or needed to be there, to the cemetery at the same time. We had a nice time together talking and releasing the balloons with little messages to let go of this last year. And in some ways I am angry with myself for not taking the moment by myself at the graveside. And in other ways I am glad because I don't think I would have been able to pull myself together to endure the rest of the weekend. I'm not sure where we are going or how we'll get there but this last year is over and done with and therefore some kind of a relief has come over us. It doesn't change the fact that he is gone, it doesn't change the fact we're all still deeply grieving. That no matter how you toss the dice everything is different. There will be no more family gatherings that feel right, no more family dinners with him there. No more family photos that will ever quite look right... 
I don't really like doing any of the things our families still want to do, get together, meals, monthly birthday celebrations, because it's a constant reminder that my family is not whole. They have everyone there, their families are whole and complete and mine is broken with one who will always be missing. Broken in ways I can't just put on a band-aid on it and pretend it will be better. I know in ways things will get "better" over time, but it can never be fixed, Austin will always be missing. Not only is it hard to go to these things it's even harder to hold back what I'm feeling, anger, envy and an overwhelming sadness, and pretend to have a good time and act like I am in anyway enjoying myself (and yes I know I don't always do that I can be a moody ass). Yes I know they lost a nephew, cousin or grandson and it's been hard for them too, but he wasn't their son. He wasn't in their stomach for 9 months, they didn't give birth to my beautiful child and they didn't have to bury one of their children because he/she died by suicide. And thank the Lord they haven't...

First Angelversary

September 27th

When I've thought of this day, I figured I'd stay in bed and sleep it off, like a bad hangover. Good thing is I'm up and moving, had a scheduled therapy appointment with my new therapist and honestly (so far anyway) it was probably the smartest thing I could have done.
I have to say I hate today and love today ironically enough. I hate that he's been gone a full year, that he really won't walk through my front door and yell "Gotcha" today or any day. I hate realizing I won't hear his laughter, his sneezes, his attitude, his saxophone playing in the band, his snorting breath while he tried to breathe while eating, his noisy ass vehicles attempting to run, his snoring, his arguing as he debated every topic under the sun cause he always had to be right no matter what...his,  everything.
This day last year started out as any other day... my issues at work were all consuming, my boss hated my guts and was doing everything in her power to "prove" to all the higher ups that I was crap and had no idea what I was doing... came home to the kids and all their activities and around 7pm the detectives showing up on my door step, a day I'd just prefer to forget...hearing those words, that one word that crushed me and our family....that suicide had once again doused our life force with pain, grief, suffering, anger, overwhelming sadness. That suicide could once again affect me and my family, felt and continues to feel somewhat surreal. I hate that my children have been forced to understand what it feels like to have their brother be gone. I hate that my children have to feel this pain, this depression, this inability to fix what is broken. I hated having to tell my kids Austin would never come home again and why.....
The phone calls having to be made to let the world know that my son was gone, that he was so deep in his depression that he no longer felt he could find his way out. That this world would now be without his amazing life force.
One of the worst nights of my life...

The day is almost over and I am more then grateful that it's finally "done" that we have somehow made it through this day.

May we continue to seek out hope and peace and someday soon learn how to live and not just survive.

Sleeplessness/Regrets

No matter how hard I try the regrets I have come crashing down on me at night while I attempt to fall asleep. Its so freaking daunting and overwhelming. As I've mentioned before I do everything I can not to play the "should have, would have, could have"(shwhch) game, but sometimes at night my 20 ft steal enforced brick walls come crashing down without even thinking of the consequences to my own well being. Just when I think, with relief, that I've made it another day fully in tack, I crash...
Crashing is one of the hardest moments I tend to deal with. It involves the "shwhch" game, the why didn't I do this or do that, conversations that could have been different, wording that should have been used. More hugs, more I love yous. Anything and everything you would take back or change in any way shape or form. Most of the time the result of this crash is a terrifying anxiety/panic attack. Thankfully not many people have witnessed my having those. Thankfully my kids are either sleeping or at school. I hate that the regrets can have so much control of how I'm feeling and my reactions to those feelings.
Everyone tells you and I even tend to tell myself a lot of the time, that the death, whatever the cause, of a loved one is not your fault and that you did everything you could, don't have regrets, you are a great mom... Logically this all makes sense, but emotionally the heart "sees, feels and thinks" differently.
I've started seeing a therapist and I continue to attend an SOS (survivors of suicide) group all of which is helping me make it through each of these moments that suck.

Tomorrow is the day my son died a year ago... Do I have regrets, of course I do, I think I always will. Will I make it through the day? Of course I will, its the only choice I have. Will people see or know how or what tomorrow truly feels like to me? Probably not... why, because no one wants to see that, not even me...

No parent should lose a child. As a society there is no word in the English language that describes this "event". If you lose your spouse you are called a widow, if you are a child and you lose your parents you are called an orphan. There is one word I found through my research that attempts to "name" this: “Vilomah.” is a Sanskrit word meaning “against a natural order". For a parent who loses a child there is only one word in the English language that even remotely describes who/what we are: Devastated.